


Be My Saviour Tonight.

by cuddlepuss



Category: Bobtrick, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, bob bryar - Fandom, patrick stump - Fandom
Genre: Fiction, General fiction, Literature, Multi, Short Stories, prose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-18 00:28:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1408243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuddlepuss/pseuds/cuddlepuss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when a stranger follows Bob to his secret place, where he goes to escape his miserable life?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be My Saviour Tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> Bobtrick. A pairing I'd not heard of before I awoke with it in my head this morning.
> 
> Bob Bryar x Patrick Stump
> 
> A bit of protective fluff.

      I was sitting in my usual place, my back against the derelict  
barn wall, legs pulled up to my chest with my arms wrapped around them,  
and my head dropped down to rest on my knees. I was, as usual, trying  
not to cry out the misery of my tortured existance.

      Re-living the day's events, the beatings, the bullying, the  
parental abuse, and general gut clenching terror of my daily life,  
I was so lost in my misery, I didn't hear the approaching footsteps.  
Planning all the wonderful ways I could put an end to this torture  
they jokingly called life, pills, slit throat, hanging, drowning,  
suffocation, I almost jumped out of my skin when I felt a gentle hand  
on my shoulder, and a soft voice asking if I was alright.

     Sniffing and gasping for breath, I muttered an unintelligable  
answer. Then a tender hand carefully lifted my face, by the chin,  
until I was looking into a pair of amazing, crystal blue eyes.  
Carefully wiping a stray tear from my cheek with his thumb, this  
young god, my saviour, asked what was wrong.

********************************************************************

     Sitting beside me, he put his arm around my shoulders, and hugged  
me, briefly, seemingly unembarrassed by physical contact of such type  
with a complete stranger - I didn't even know his name! Slowly, quietly,  
I explained about how at every breaktime and lunchtime, the same gang  
of lads used me for a punchbag, as did my parents at home, only they  
used a leather belt with big brass ships wheels on it. How I was feeling  
like there was no point in living if all I was destined to get was beaten  
by everyone that ever knew me.

     Looking me straight in the eye, this wonderful young man, only my age,  
if that, said that no-one was going to hurt me again, he was going to make  
sure of it. Sniffing my nose, and a doubtful expression on my face, he asked  
me if I'd trust him for two hours, and go with him. With nothing to lose,  
I said yes, and got painfully to my feet. Taking my arm in his, he lead me  
away from my hidaway, and towards I knew not where.

*************************************************************************

     As we went, he said "I'm Bob, Bob Bryar. What's you're name? I'm taking  
you home with me, by the way. I was in your situation once upon a time, and  
that's how I knew, as soon as I saw you that something was wrong. I live at  
a center for abused young adults - it's great. We all get our own room, our  
own things, and we all have similar stories, so we all look out for each other.  
We have a spare room at present, and I'm sure Mikey and Gerard, the brothers  
that run the place will take you in too."

     Hardly daring to believe he was real, I said "I... I'm P.. Patrick, Patrick  
Stump. But you can call me fatso, everyone else does." Bob, with a patient sigh,  
took his arm from mine, and placed it carefully on my shoulder instead. "Patrick,  
believe me, where we're going, no-one will call you anything bad like that again.  
You probably will get a shortened version of your name, but it will be just that,  
a varient of Patrick. Do you have one you like?" Thinking, I decided I liked one  
that my late grandparents used to call me, when I was little. "My Nanny used to  
call me Tricky. I like that." Smiling, Bob said "Then, from now on, you are Tricky."

*******************************************************************************

      Bob lead me to this big place on the outside of town, right on the outskirts  
of the town proper. Going up to the door, he gave two mighty bangs, and waited.  
After a few minutes, the door creaked open, and this tall, skinny young man, with  
glasses sliding down his nose, said "Bob, we were wondering where you'd got to.  
And who's this? Come in, come in, don't stand on the doorstep like a beggar."  
Bob, grinning, said "Hey Mikey, this is the boy I was telling you about last night,  
you know, the one that worried me. I followed him today, and convinced him he'd be  
safe if he came here with me. You've an hour and a half of the two he promised to  
trust me for. Tricky, this is Mikey, he's one of the brothers that run this place.  
You can trust him, okay? You be okay with him, or would you like me to stay?"

      I looked up into Mikey's kind brown eyes, and was about to answer when "BOB  
BRYAR! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!" Another man appeared behind Mikey, and I shrank back  
behind Bob for safety. Mikey looked at me, then called softly "Gerard, cool it will  
you? You're frightening Bob's new friend. Come say hello instead of shouting your  
mouth off." As the other man came closer, Bob whispered "That's Gerard, Mikey's big  
brother, he's the other manager here."

      Watching as he approached, I sidled further behind Bob, wishing I was still  
at the old barn. As Gerard came close, he gave me a huge smile, and said "So, he  
found you today then. Can you come talk to Mikey and I? Or would you rather stay  
with Bob here?" Gulping a breath, I nervously nodded to Bob, and took hold of his  
arm. Bob, seeming to know that I was scared, said "Ummmm, should we offer a drink,  
you guys? It's cold out there, and school got out a couple hours ago, so Tricky's  
got to be as thirsty as me. Please?" 

     Mikey, clapping his hand to his mouth, spun around on the spot, and headed to  
the back of the house. Gerard, winking at Bob, said "Good call, Bob, come on, both  
of you." In the diner, where Mikey served coffee and cake, I told them about my home  
and school life, and Bob filled them in on how he'd found me earlier. Outraged, the  
brothers decided then and there that I should move into the spare room.

*************************************************************************************

     Before two months had passed, I was living at the house with Bob, Mikey, Gerard  
and the rest. I'd never been happier. In the years that followed, I grew ever closer  
to Bob, from a plump teenager, into a portly young man in his twenties, Bob and I, in  
many ways as alike as two peas in a pod, not only kept in touch with Mikey and Gerard,  
but kept close to each other. Now, ten years after that first meeting, we live together,  
and love one another freely, openly, and with complete trust in the other.

    The Healthy Home, as we called it, now a memory for us both is still going strong,  
and we support it with all we can. Even to the point of using our upcoming wedding as a  
fundraiser for it. And in that respect we've been lucky too. As it's a fundraiser, many  
of the local businesses, in exchange for publicity on the orders of service, are donating  
their goods and time to the day. I honestly can't wait. I'll be the happiest person alive  
when I put the ring on the finger of my own, personal saviour.


End file.
